


Black Coffee

by Nevada_Stranger (Grandpas_Cheesebarn)



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: And Looks Hot, Aphrodisiacs, Begging, Biting and Bruises, Breast Play, Collars, Consent Issues, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, F/M, Fingering, Holoform, Humor, Master/Pet, Megatron Lies, Nipple Play, Overstimulation, POV Second Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Sex Pollen, blackout - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 13:07:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14309322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grandpas_Cheesebarn/pseuds/Nevada_Stranger
Summary: “Let me help you,” Megatron smiled, close, his voice gravel and black coffee. Something in you hollered and kicked, fighting, but you couldn’t hold onto it for long. You were just tired, and you felt like you were burning, and Megatron seemed like a nice guy. Trustworthy. He had to be, if he was one of Orion’s friends. So you nodded, your throat dry, your skin on fire.





	Black Coffee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bumb1eBa3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bumb1eBa3/gifts).



> Part of a commission, but I decided not to include it in the larger work, due to the different tone. 
> 
> Click [ HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14119320/chapters/32534751) to view the story this takes place in. Note that this isn’t really canon with the story itself.
> 
> What you need to know: the reader has a prosthetic left arm, and is in some sort of maybe romantic relationship with Optimus (Orion).

Well, you thought, it couldn’t get any worse. 

So your head was pounding. You couldn’t remember where you were. There was some kind of collar on your neck, maybe, but you couldn’t tell. The room was too hot, and you felt like you were dying, literally dying, so much that you couldn’t breathe. At least, the cool metal of your arm was nice, pressed against your neck as you curled into a ball. It couldn’t get any worse.

The door to the room opened. You looked up, blearily, trying to figure out who it was. A guy. A dude. A bad hombre, in some biker looking jacket, black hair with flecks of grey at the sides. He had a stubble, nearly a beard but not quite. And the eyes. Red, which was weird. 

“Are...” You began, trying to focus, “Are you one of Orion’s friends?”

God. It hurt to think. It felt like your entire body was on fire, prickling at the touch, before swapping to buckets of ice water. Like, like a tiny, angry midget was in charge of your internal thermostat, and he hated you.

“You could say that,” The man smiled. You had enough sense of mind to glare at him as you struggled to your feet, as if he’d caused this.

“Where’s Orion?” You demanded, “He can fix this. He...he knows how to fix this.”

Orion. Pleasant, brunette hair, stubble and warm smile. Not the guy in front of you. You tried to hold up the angry expression, but another wave of heat flushed you, like the damn Sahara, and you doubled back over, curled in on yourself. Shit. 

“My name is Megatron. Orion sent me to help you,” The man, or Megatron, assured, stepping closer to you. You rose your head up, feeling all of the plates in your arm shift at once, prickling your skin. 

“Maybe,” You trailed off, squinting, trembling, using your other hand to roughly shove hair out of your face, “Or, no. No, I don’t...”

Megatron reached forward, setting a palm on your shoulder. Through the cotton of your shirt, it felt as though your entire body exploded, all triangulating around that one point. 

“Fuck,” You breathed out, your eyes blown wide. You weren’t sure if it was a sensation of pain or pleasure, but it certainly made you twist to try and do...something. Thinking was definitely much harder than it had been before. You tried to take a deep breath, but the friction of the damn collar around your throat made it difficult, cool metal the only relief.

“Let me help you,” Megatron stated, close, his voice gravel and black coffee. Something in you hollered and kicked, fighting, but you couldn’t hold onto it for long. You were just tired, and hot, and Megatron seemed like a nice guy. Trustworthy. He had to be, if he was one of Orion’s friends.

“Okay,” You agreed, swallowing thickly, “Just, hurry.”

You weren’t sure what he meant by help, but maybe it involved some ice water. Buckets of it. And some nice lemonade, the kind in the summer, with the ice cubes and the perspiration on the side. Yeah. A few towels as well. You were distantly glad for the light pants you wore, not so much for the laced up boots, the cotton shirt airy but like a vice on your lungs.

Megatron. Megatron was still looking at you, smiling. Something about that smile. Maybe more of a smirk, you couldn’t tell. He looked away again, before pulling something out of his pocket, shiny and silver. A remote? What the hell was he going to do, watch some Extreme Cooking? 

Beep, went the little button. Nothing happened at first, and your head was still swimming, making any coherent thoughts hard to grab onto. Maybe that was why you almost didn’t notice the change at first. But you definitely noticed it right after. As if it wasn’t bad enough that your body was aflame, your arm...shifted. Then, it lit up on you, the sensors activating all at once, a torrent of information that left you gasping. Too much. After a decade of inactivity, the sudden activation of sensors on your arm– pain, pleasure, everything– became too much, leaving you an oversensitive and overstimulated mess across your entire body. 

“Fuck,” You writhed, because even the sensations of your clothes on your skin were too much. What the hell? What just... “What just happened?” Your speech was slurred, trying to piece together any coherent information. Megatron was still there. That meant he could help you. He said he’d help you. 

“Do not worry, my pet,” Megatron soothed, moving his hand from your shoulder to the tissue around your prosthetic arm, “I said I’d help you, and I intend to.”

You couldn’t even form a response. All words failed you, everything in the world boiling down to the feeling of that palm just barely grazing your arm. If your body was fire before, it was thermonuclear now, flashes of hot separated by the cold bursts of almost blinding pleasure. Your eyes nearly rolled back into your head, and all you could let out was a strangled noise as Megatron pressed a finger onto the metal plating. But just as suddenly, he stepped back. It left you heaving, confused, and all form of controlled thoughts left you.

“Why...” You gripped for him, “Wait...” 

“You’re an eager one,” Megatron noted, smiling in a way that only made you warmer, if that was possible, “What do you want me to do?”

“Help me,” You pleaded, doubling back over when your shirt touched your arm again, fuck, “Please. Fuck. Please.”

“Since you’re asking nicely,” Megatron chuckled. Forward again. Very close. He lightly pushed you back, until your back was against a wall, you noted. He loomed over you, boxing you in, and you only had a moment to register that thought before he firmly placed a hand on your left, prosthetic arm. You mewled, a full body shudder. His other hand he brought to the hem of your shirt, sliding up under it, cool fingers a blessing as they traveled upwards. Your breath hitched some more, as his hand stopped at your breasts, and you bucked your hips, trying to get more friction. He obliged, taking one in his hand and kneading it. 

“Yess,” You hissed. Nothing else mattered. Just that Megatron was here, helping you. With his right hand, he trailed down the metal of the prosthetic, occasionally paying special attention to certain plates. Each prod and press made you shudder even more, the sensations overloading your brain. Pleasure was the most prominent thing on your mind, anything to stop the fever that wracked your body. 

“Are you enjoying this, pet?” Megatron hummed, taking one of your nipples in between his fingers and rolling it lightly. You arched your back off the wall, trying to get more, your right hand gripping onto the back of his jacket like a lifeline. 

“Yes,” You gasped, cut off by a high pitch sound as he pinched just right, drawing his other hand up and down your overly sensitive arm, “More.”

“Should I make you beg for it?” Megatron rose an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself, lifting his hand off your arm and the other from your chest. Your eyes shot open, your face twisting with confused betrayal.

“Please. Please, I need it, please,” You begged, twisting and squirming, “M-Megatron, fuck, please.”

That did it. Or something. You didn’t care what it did, as long as what ended up being did was you. Megatron let out something akin to a low growl, before pressing you back against the wall. Then, he hooked his arms under your legs, bringing them to his sides. You caught the general idea, crossing them behind his back, squeezing tight and grinding against him slightly. But then his hand was at your shirt again, this time tearing into it, ripping it off like it was nothing. Then, he dove down, mouth latching onto one of your breasts and attacking it with his tongue. You squealed, squeezing your legs tighter, your hands gripping his jacket tight enough to leave bruises on your palms. 

Megatron rolled the nipple between his teeth, toying with it, rocking his hips against you. His other hand, he slowly trailed down to your waistband, toying with the hem of the sweatpants. Teasingly, agonizingly slow, he lowered his hand down, the deft fingers parting your thighs and leaving light prods across your inner thighs.

“Please,” You nearly shouted, the heat of your body all consuming, “I can’t– oh fuck–“

Megatron didn’t waste any time. His fingers parted your lower lips, sliding into the cool slickness of your inner folders. You mewled helplessly, his other hand alternating which breast he squeezed and toyed with. He rose his mouth from your nipple with a wet sound and a wry twist of his lips, before lowering back down to your skin, nipping at the flesh and sinking greedy teeth into muscle. Your mouth was a continuous stream of gasping, heavy moans and desperate breaths. 

“You’re so impatient,” Megatron growled, his fingers teasing your clit, prodding your hole. You thrust your hips, writhing, and he laughed, before shoving two fingers in without hesitation. Then, he was pumping, in and out, the noises squelching. You hissed again, the pleasure blinding you, forcing your eyes closed. Megatron trailed bite marks up your skin, until he stopped on your shoulder.

“What do you want?” He asked, voice deep, charcoal. Three fingers now, pumping, arching into you, heat and wet pleasure. Deeper, you wanted him deeper, every time he hit the mark and you shuddered and shook.

“What do you want?” He demanded, your breathing becoming short bursts, unable to focus on anything. You couldn’t form the words, but you wanted, oh did you want.

“P-please,” You begged, the words falling from your mouth, “Please, oh god, please.”

“Say my name,” Megatron hissed, four fingers, his teeth grazing the flesh near your prosthetic arm. Too much. It was too much. If he bit down–

His fingers arched at just the right moment, and you let out a scream of, “Megatron!” And that did it, because he dove down, sinking his teeth into your shoulder, the flesh connecting your arm. The entire world exploded, your senses going haywire, and you were dimly aware that you were still screaming, your insides clenching around his fingers, your arm shifting and unshifting at such a rate that it was almost steaming. Megatron didn’t stop, just kept going, forcing through it and just continuing to pump, in and out, continuing to bite harder, until one by one your senses shut off and you, finally, blacked out. 

Your form slumped forward. Megatron shouldered your weight, slipping his fingers out of you, removing his teeth from your skin. There would be bruises, all across your body, but never had his pet looked so entrancing to him. He laughed low at the thought of Optimus finding you like this, and his grin grew decidedly more sinister at the thought of your confused reaction when you finally woke up. He’d have to thank Knock Out when he had the chance.

**Author's Note:**

> Gonna tae wake up an be like “yea mate quick question what tae fook”


End file.
